Posted in General Thoughts, Writings

The Composer

When I was 12yrs old I wanted to be Indiana Jones. While my friends bought the Valley Girl film music with its totally tubular sounds, I religiously played the soundtrack to Raiders of the Lost Ark. I loved the film and I reenacted scenes in my room. Being able to listen to the music made my play time feel that much more authentic.  I didn’t bother to learn who made the music until later, I just cared about making sure I hung on to the edge of my bed like Indy hung on to the edge of that truck. Over time the name John Williams became more prominent in my life.

If there is anyone who I can say created the soundtrack to my childhood it’s Mr. Williams. It was over many years that I learned he had created the themes and scores for almost all of my favorite films; Jaws, Star Wars, E.T., Close Encounters and Superman just to name a few. Hell the guy did the theme song to my favorite show Lost in Space. I became in awe of his accomplishments and I wanted to learn more. He became my gate way drug, introducing to me other film composers; Bernard Herrmann, Jerry Goldsmith, Basil Poledouris.  And it’s those giants that opened me up to the classical works.

It all started with John Williams. His collaboration with Steven Spielberg is iconic. Spielberg movies on their own are amazing, but add a few musical notes by this legendary composer and they become extraordinary. When Mr Williams shuffles off this mortal coil, so will my childhood. But his music will continue to inspire me and I cannot thank him enough for opening me up to a world that I may not have found on my own had I not wanted to be Indiana Jones.

Advertisements
Posted in General Thoughts, Writings

Here we go again

I’m trying to figure out what to write.

I’m trying to get this blog going in some way. Trying to find the direction I want it to go.

Do I stick with films? Do I talk about other thigs like books and TV and music?  Do I branch out and just talk about what’s on my mind like politics, pop culture, and my own feelings on all kinds of things. Do I just create a fictional narrative like a multi part novella that might get people to come back more than my idiotic ramblings?

Ugh I just don’t know.

But I think that’s a good thing. I know I’ve done this several times. But then I get frustrated and give up for a bit. I sit and stare and muse and rack my brain trying to come up with A) an interesting topic and B) an interesting way to present said topic. So I throw up my hands and just binge the latest Netflix drug of choice.

But I have a clean slate; I always do. I can write I want and have no restrictions. I don’t have anyone to impress except myself and I’m my own worst critic. This is the time to experiment. This is the time to try different things and sees what sticks. This is actually a more exciting time because I can try any style and see what my and the audience reactions would be.

I always tell people that the beginning is the best place and find your voice.

So, once again, I sit and stare and muse but I’m not going to get frustrated. I’m not going to distract myself and I’m not going to give up. I want to put something up at least once a week regardless of the topic. I want it to be a habit, an addiction that when I don’t put something up I get hives or the DT’s. I was going to wait until Jan 1st but ugh that’s so cliché and why wait.  So here we go…

(3hrs later. Netflix: Are you still watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina instead of writing? Me: Sadly yes)

Posted in Writings

Christmas Instiutions That Need to Stop

4. WHITE ELEPHANTS

The object of this joyous game, which I like to affectionately call “5 Finger Discount Christmas”, is to go to a table riddled with gifts, take one, open it, hopefully getting something you like and then praying to whatever God you believe in that the second person choses to pick from the table and not pluck that wonderful little present from your not so cold and dead hands. But alas, it’s encouraged to take from the person so that the ooohs and ahhhs can be heard all the way to the North Pole making Santa and probably the Baby Jesus cry.

images
His tears help make Egg Nog

So there you are presentless again and now you must trod off to the table and grab another gift hoping your luck will remain but knowing history tends to repeat itself. And this goes on and on and on until everyone has something in their hands from either the table or by simply ripping off the person who had it first. Because nothing screams Christmas spirit more than out right thievery.

how-the-grinch-stole-christmas-animated-reboot
The Patron Saint of White Elephants

Some will argue that it’s not about the gifts it’s about the game and the fun. Yes, I’m sure the person who started the game with a $500 gift card from Amazon is perfectly happy with the Pine and Dog Shit scented Yankee Candle they got at the end.

imgres
For those romantic evenings

3. OFFICE SECRET SANTAS

Usually it works the same as any other Secret Santa, you pull a name from a hat (usually a Santa or elf hat because why not indulge in clichés’) and now that persons happiness and your reputation are permanently intertwined.  It becomes an almost month long stressed induced nightmare of “What the Fuck do I get this person” Made worse because A) you are new and you don’t really know anyone at the office or B) the person you picked is new which means you will either form a strong bond by the end of this or simply look like a jackass and your name will appear has the headline for the Office Gossip Gazette or C) you ended up with someone you don’t like, like Gary from accounting who’s just an asshole. So not only did you get the asshole, not only do have no clue what the asshole would want  but now you’re pissed at yourself because you’re worried about what to get the asshole for Christmas.

growing-up
Gary’s such an asshole

But it doesn’t even end when you present your gift because even after they open it and smile and gush with the thank you’s and all the You shouldn’t haves, you will always wonder in the back of your mind “Did they really like the gift or will I find it back on the shelf at Goodwill where I found it in the first place”  

2. THE IDEA OF A WAR ON CHRISTMAS

Let’s get one thing straight, there is no war on Christmas. People are not lining up outside of Starbucks with pitch forks and torches because their cups aren’t Christiany enough (they’re probably mad because they limited the espresso shots) Most people really don’t care. Besides do you really want this on a cup containing your delicious, frothy double foam macchiato?

christ_passion_movie_cross
Jesus Died for our Latte’s

And no the President never banned Christmas trees or the saying of Merry Christmas and if you believe he did then you deserve coal in your stocking and then getting repeatedly beaten with said stocking because you’re an idiot.  Most of the flames of this war on Christmas rhetoric were fanned by this guy (Whose  name I will not mention) who looks like a cross between Kevin James and Fred Durst who was not really born but more like he was hatched while under a heat lamp at Burger King.

war-on-xmas-guy
King of the Whopper of all Lies

The bottom line is this is the time of year to come together. No matter your belief, no matter your gender, no matter your color Christmas time is for everyone because buying last minute gifts at the Dollar Store is a universal trait.

1. BABY IT’S COLD OUTSIDE

No song has ever brought the worlds of Romance, Christmas and Sexual Assault together so seamlessly than this little ditty. How could you not feel the warmth of a crackling fire with lyrics like this:

My mother will start to worry (beautiful what’s your hurry?)
My father will be pacing the floor (listen to the fireplace roar)

Or feel the air of Christmas with these verses:
So really I’d better scurry (beautiful please don’t hurry)
But maybe just a half a drink more (put some records on while I pour)

Or feel the abject terror that awaits with these melodic words:
The neighbors might think (baby, it’s bad out there)
Say what’s in this drink? (no cabs to be had out there)

I’d be surprised if Dean Martin didn’t end up wearing a skin suit by the end of this song.

skinsuit-horror-world-435096_543_800
Baby its cold outside so I need your skin to keep me warm

 

 

Posted in Writings

Eye of the Dreamer Chapter 5

                When Tommy was a kid he had been asked to help in his Dad auto shop. He reacted as any child would when asked to work when all he wanted was to be outside playing with his friends or inside playing his video games.  He begrudgingly walked in with a pouty look thinking how he didn’t want to be there. His Dad told him to start moping the floor, then he had him organize the parts and tools, he then had him move the tires from inside to the back area. He then had him work some of the machines.

                                “I don’t know how to work this” Tommy said with trepidation.

                                “Let me see if you can figure it out” his Dad responded.

                                Tommy looked around at the machine and studied it and started touching the buttons and slowly but eventually he learned how certain equipment worked.

By the end tommy was exhausted. He sat at his father’s desk. Dad gave him a coke and sat with him.

                                “I know you didn’t want to be here” Dad said

                                “Ya think” Tommy quietly responded.

                                “But I’m proud of you. Even though you were mopey you still did the work and you did a great job. See I just wanted to show you that whatever’s put in front of you, no matter how much you don’t want to it or it seems hard, you can accomplish anything. I know you got the heart all you need is the confidence.”

                                “Yeah I do feel I can do anything” Tommy responded proudly

                                                   _______________________________

                                “I CAN’T DO THAT!!!!” Tommy shouted. He had just been told that he was going to be the caretaker for peoples dreams; a far cry from learning hydraulic lifts inn his dad’s shop. Plus being told that while preparing to battle some nightmare creature, not the best combination.

                                Tommy followed Mr Sabbiaman to what he felt was the center. The lights were denser, bigger more vibrant. Tommy could feel a greater amount of energy being released. There was almost a feeling of euphoria washing over him.

                                Mr Sabbiaman turned around and faced Tommy “I’m sorry what were you saying?”

                                “Look, I don’t know what’s going on right now. All I know is that you are some crazy old dude who’s got a really cool light show going on. You say these are all people’s dreams and you take care of them. I was robbing your house for christsaks and now I’m supposed to help you fight some friggin monster at the same time you’re sayin that I’m supposed to take your job!!!” Tommy finally stopped and took a breath.

                                Mr Sabbiaman was looking around. He was eyeing all the different lights that shone in the room until he came upon the only white light, “ahhh there you are “ he whispered.

                                Tommy looked at him “What are you looking for? What is that”

                                “That is the collection of own dreams. We have to dream. It’s a way for the sub conscious to purge, to release. If we don’t dream we slowly go mad. A custodians sleep patterns can be rather erratic to say the least we don’t dream like normal humans. So right before we begin our job, our last dream is collected. It’s stored in this white void. We then periodically enter the void to purge our minds. This will help us stop The Nightmare” And with that Mr Sabbiaman prepared to enter the void. Just as he was about to walk through both he and Tommy heard a scream, the nightmare was getting closer.

                                “Enter the void with me, together we can stop the nightmare once and for all. We can harness the power from my collected dreams and end this” Mr Sabbiaman turned to the void.

                                “wait a minute” Tommy shouted “ I don’t understand any of this.”

                                “You will once you enter the void, all your questions answered and you will be fully aware of everything” Mr Sabbiaman said with impatients .

                                Tommy saw a figure coming closer and closer. He looked at Mr Sabbiaman who was about to enter the void and looked back the shadow figure barreling toward them. He made his decision, he ran toward Mr Sabbiaman and just as they were about to enter Tommy heard a familiar voice.

                                “STOP!!!!” Said the voice.

                                Tommy turned and his face was ashen with shock. The figure came out of the shadow and Tommy could clearly see his face but he couldn’t believe his eyes.

                                “Do not listen to that man.” Said the figure “I am Mr Sabbiaman and I’m the custodian”

Posted in Writings

Eye of the Dreamer Chapter 4

                            “So it would appear our time is limited. I would have rather you learned organically but based on the what we just heard I will need to spoon feed you the information” Mr Sabbiaman said with calm but with a hint of urgency. Tommy was still reeling from that blood curdling scream that cut through the cavern. “What you are seeing are portals. They are doors to the sub conscious. We can see what frightens them, what brings them joy. We can learn where their anxieties lay and see how the mind tries to find answers to unanswerable questions.” Tommy stared at Mr Sabbiaman. They were both silent for a moment.

                                “Who are they?!!?” Tommy shouted “Portals to what? You need to speak English to me”

                                “Dreams. These are portals to people’s dreams. Those images that flicker on and off in the light are the streams of consciousness of people while they are sleeping” Mr Sabbiaman grab Tommy by the shoulder and slowly spun him around “We are connected to everyone on the planet who is dreaming”

                                “How is this possible” Tommy said

                                “For now, all I you need to believe is that it is possible”

                                “So if this place houses peoples dreams, does that make you some kind of…dream master”

                                Mr Sabbiaman raised an eye brow “Hardly. Im what you would call a Custodian. I make sure that nothing interferes with how the dreams unfold or with the people dreaming them”

                                “Ok ok so you’re a custodian. Then what the hell is that, that nightmare we heard. I mean I have nightmares all the time but…

                                “Not a nightmare, THE Nightmare. This is a creature that stalks these portals trying to syphon their energy”

                                Tommy looked confused and was about to say it when he was cut off

                                “Dreams give off energy, that’s what these portals of light are.   Even when sleeping the human mind is still producing thoughts; tiny electrical currents still zapping around your cortex, thus energy.”

                                “Ok so what does that have to do…

                                “The Nightmare feeds on that energy. Haven’t you awoken feeling more tired even though you slept throughout the night? That’s because some of your energy was stolen. This creature feeds on it to gain strength. Of course it engages in harsher methods”

                                “What do you mean”

                                Mr Sabbiaman stared at Tommy for a minute “Do you remember that period of time when you woke up but couldn’t move?”

                                Tommy looked on in utter shock. Not only was that a terrifying period of his life, the paralysis, the feeling of helplessness, the tightness in his chest as if he were being suffocated,  he couldn’t believe that this man knew about it.

“Do you remember those shadowy figures that would appear? They would stare and begin walking toward you.  Sometimes right on top of you? “Tommy nodded. “That was The Nightmare feeding heavily. There is a middle point between the dream world and the real world, I call it The Great Barrier. That paralysis that you felt was you being pulled into the great barrier; awake yet not, aware but not sure if it was real or not and then the creature would feed”  

                                “But there were times I saw more than one figure”

                                “Visual distortion. Your mind cannot process what goes on in the great barrier, so what you see as multiple figures is just one monster”

                                Tommy slumped to the floor, the look of confusion, shock and exhaustion was setting in. “Look this is a lot take in”

                                Mr Sabbiaman knelt down and put his hands on Tommy’s shoulders “I know it is. And I am sorry. I do wish you could learn and absorb all this at a slower pace but time of the essence. We must prepare” And with that Mr Sabbiaman got up and started walking.

                                Tommy stood up and shouted “what do you mean, We???  I don’t even know why you brought me down here in the first place”

                                Mr Sabbiaman stopped but didn’t bother to turn around “I brought you down here for one simple reason; You are to be the new custodian”

Posted in Writings

Eye of the Dreamer Chapter 3

It felt like they were walking for hours. Tommy and the old man didn’t speak for what seemed like forever.  Tommy would look around hoping he would see anything other than light and black void. He looked behind and thought he saw a figure but it would quickly dissipate, this place is getting to me, he thought.  Tommy’s frustration got the better of him and he stopped.

“Ok Ok look I want answers.” Tommy shouted and the old man stopped in his tracks with this back to Tommy. “We’ve been walking and walking and there’s nothing here!!!  So before we keep going I want to know what the hell is going on.  I don’t even know your damn name” The old man stood still for a moment and then slowly turned around, each step with purpose. He looked at Tommy right in the eye, never changing his blank facial expression.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask for my name. It is Mr Sabbiaman, pleasure to meet you Tommy. You have impeccable timing. Your out burst happens just as we are arriving.”

Tommy walks a bit closer, “First off, where are we? And second, How did you know my name, I never told you it.”

He looked quizzically at Tommy “Hmmmm that’s right, you never did tell me.” He smiled and turned around. “Now I need you to stand still, this may be a bit disorienting, but trust me you will get used to it”

Mr Sabbiaman closed his eyes, his back was to Tommy.  If there was a physical manifestation of peace and ease He was it. Tommy stood there wondering what was going to happen. A for a few moments, nothing happened. Guess his special effects team flaked out Tommy thought but then he noticed that the temperature dropped. A chill ran down his spine and all the way down to his toes. He could see his breath and felt a cold that he’d never felt before. He looked at the old man who had stretched his arms out as if he was waiting for a warm embrace. Then the room went black. Both were consumed in darkness. Then a flicker of blue light appeared. It blinked on and off as if struggling to be noticed and then a pink like was doing the same thing and then a green light and then a yellow light. Different color lights were coming alive all around them, right in front, right behind and above them. For a second Tommy thought he was in a dance club. He hoped that he didn’t waste his time just to end up in a place that would play crappy techno music. But he as the colored lights grew brighter he thought he saw flashes of something, images here and there. Faces appearing out of thin air. There were hundreds maybe thousands of light. He still felt the cold but he started getting used to it. He looked at Mr Sabbiaman who was turning around and smiling. This was a smile of pride, almost like the pride has in one’s child.  Tommy was speechless in awe of what he was witnessing, he kept looking around trying to figure out how this was possible. Even as a child magic was something that Tommy didn’t buy into. He either figured out the trick straight away or he investigated it and found out the how the trick was done. There was always an answer. But he couldn’t figure out the light source, he couldn’t figure out how these images were being projected. This was completely baffling to him. Still Mr Sabbiaman was taking everything in, this was business as usual the way he acted.

“What is all this?” Tommy’s voice was a hush but he knew he was heard.

“Shhhhhhh” was all Mr Sabbiaman said. He then walked to one of the lights and slowly put his hand through. But his hand didn’t come out the other side it simply went in as if he were reaching into a closet. Tommy looked on with utter shock.  He pulled his hand out, smelled it and smiled.

“It’s time to touch the untouchable” He smiled and gestured to Tommy to reach out.  Tommy looked around and moved to the red one, red was his favorite color. He was a hesitant at first but he came this far why not keep going. He put his hand through and he immediately felt a slight jolt, as if he got hit with electricity, nothing painful just enough to know this was more than a simple light. He felt warmth, and cold at the same time as if the atmosphere couldn’t decide what it wanted. It was a feeling he had never felt before. He pulled his hand out and he was immediately struck with the scent of pine, but this wasn’t just any pine this was a smell from his past. His eyes began welling up as he was hit with a memory from his childhood like a semi crashing into a brick wall. He had no idea how this was possible. He look at Mr Sabbiaman who was nodding in approval. He walked over to Tommy and handed him his handkerchief.

“You will begin to understand everything, I promise. For now just enjoy” Both he and Tommy smiled.

A blood curdling scream ripped across the illuminated cavern. The echo seem to go on forever. Even the lights seemed to quiver a bit. Tommy was so startled he stumbled back a bit. He noticed Mr Sabbiaman was looking down and all he heard him say was “Oh dear”

“what the hell was that?!?!?” Tommy shouted.

“That”, Mr Sabbian said with a hint of fear, “was the nightmare”

Posted in Writings

My Snack with Trump

YC: So I must admit to being a tad shocked when you contacted me.

DT: Well young man, I felt it was time I got up close and personal and really got to know the losers who will be voting for me (AID STEPS IN AND WHISPERS SOMETHINIG IN HIS EAR) Sorry scratch losers I meant the great people of this great nation.

YC: So let’s get to the heart of things. What are the misconceptions that you would want cleared up? What do people misunderstand about Donald Trump?

DT: That is an excellent question, an excellent one. One that I’m sure that crooked Hilary has never really answered about herself to anyone’s satisfaction but it’s a question that deserves answers and I don’t think the American people will stand for nothing less but full disclosure.

YC (Staring Blankley)

DT (Staring Blankley back)

YC: Ummm you really didn’t answer the question.

DT:  If you just give me a minute to gather my thoughts, I mean she got a few minutes why can’t I?

YC: Who got a few minutes?

DT: I think the biggest misunderstanding is my slogan.

YC: Grab’em by the Pussy?

DT: No the other one.

YC:  Make American Great Again.

DT: Yeah that one. So I say it and then I see it all over the place and they’ve misspelled the word Great. See I’m a fan big fan of cheese, I mean a Yuuuuge fan of cheese, especially grated cheese.  Don’t give me blocks of cheese, I don’t want no sticks of cheese , sliced cheese are for losers (AID STEPS IN AND WHISPERS SOMETHINIG IN HIS EAR) Sorry scratch losers I meant for those great Americans who don’t know any better, and those cheese triangles are just another way for Obama to make this country more like Kenya.  But grated cheese is the best. You can sprinkle it over salads, you can spread it over pasta, you can put it on ice cream, it has so many applications it would make ya head spin.  But I feel it’s a neglected art form and that let me tell ya is a disaster, so we need to bring this back in full force and make America GRATE Again, because if we don’t, ISIS wins and that’s bad for everyone.

YC: I see, but what about the racism, the misogyny, the countless act of violence that you have incited. You have divided this country in so many people’s points of view and in so many ways that it will probably take decades for this nation to heal itself. What do you have to say about any of that?

DT: (Grating cheese onto a bowl of pasta) Oh you gotta try this. I mean look how it all comes out and just falls in there, I mean if I could grab it by its lady parts I would. I’m getting yuge just thinking about it.  Here pass that bowl of candy and I’ll grate some magic in there as well.

YC: (passes candy bowl) Thank you for your time sir.